


still the louvre

by halloaloe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Smut, Verbal Humiliation, i think that covers it....., there is no penetration but yamaguchi gets fingered, tsukishima receives the blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29096778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halloaloe/pseuds/halloaloe
Summary: Tadashi's love language is words of affirmation. He likes when Kei tells him he's good.Kei's love language is acts of service. He likes when Tadashi blows him.
Relationships: Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 189





	still the louvre

**Author's Note:**

> i cannot believe i wrote this in the span of one afternoon...... if you see any mistakes no you didn’t...
> 
> a teensy tiny warning, the dirty talk is a _little_ mean and slut shame-y (hello kei's degradation kink), but in the end they are soft and sappy and in love. also it goes without saying but i feel like i should still say it to be clear, this is their post time-skip versions!! they are adults with jobs!
> 
> okay, enjoy!

Kei likes to think he chooses his words carefully. 

He’s been told he scrimps and saves on his phrases, and has a habit of leaving so many things unsaid in the empty pause in between — but maybe it’s something about Tadashi, Tadashi who has seen all of the parts of him that he could never show somebody else — that makes him honest, that makes him babble.

“Tadashi, _Ta—da—shi_ ,” he chants like a hymm. Tadashi is beautiful like this when he comes undone over his words and Kei tells him so. “So gorgeous, beautiful, baby, baby, you’re doing so well for me, _Ta—da—shi_ ,” 

He cranes his neck forward, blinking, vision blurred without his glasses on. 

Tadashi whimpers, flexing the three fingers he has inside of him, and moans loader. 

Like some renaissance masterpiece, Tadashi is all soft, undulating limbs in the late morning light, shadows dramatic in the corners of the room that the window’s sun doesn’t reach, a chiaroscuro sharp over his adam’s apple when he swallows around his pleasure. Kei has seen many paintings in his tenure at the museum. None are so lovely, so evocative. 

It also makes him think about what else Tadashi could be swallowing.

One knee is hooked up to Tadashi’s chest, one hand holding his legs open, spread-apart — _just for me_ , Kei thinks deliriously, _all for me_ , and another hand is stuffing himself full. His cock is pink and leaking against his stomach. 

Lube _schlicks_ around his fingers. The bedsheets are a mess. 

“Please,” Tadashi begs, for nothing and for everything. “Please, please,”

When Kei doesn’t immediately respond, he whimpers again, “Please, just keep talking, Kei, Kei, come on—“

Groaning, Kei reaches forward, and strokes reverently at the softness of Tadashi’s inner thighs — a little squishy, now that his time as nationally-ranked athlete is over. Perfect, because of how it fits in his palm and how it feels when he squeezes. 

“So good,” Kei says, “Pretty, so pretty, opening yourself up for me, yeah? For me?”

“ _For you_ ,” Tadashi whispers.

Tadashi is so pretty like this — gorgeous, sunlight bathing his soft cheeks and the dotted freckles there. Freckles, everywhere, down his collarbone and across his chest when Kei pushes his shirt up and reveals them. His hair is still a mess from sleep, and those beautiful brown eyes are clouded with something Kei doesn’t want to name in this early light. 

Something mean and possessive curls up inside of Kei. It screams at him like some primal selfish urge, like a child seeing a flower growing through the sidewalk cracks and plucking it for themselves. 

“Yeah,” Kei says, harsh; delirious. His own fingers thumb at his hardening cock through his boxers. “Are you sure, Tadashi, this is all for me?”

“Yes, yes,” Tadashi babbles, “Just for you, for you,”

“But you’re such a _whore_ , Tadashi,” He pinches the sensitive skin underneath him and is rewarded with a yelp, a trembling of his thighs as Tadashi fights to keep his legs open. “What would your coworkers think if they saw you right now, so desperate for my cock? So desperate for it you woke up rutting against my back, staining my pants, you’d do this for anyone who asked, wouldn’t you?”

“No, no, just for you, _Kei_ , I’m—“

“You’re what? A _slut?_ ”

“Your slut,” Tadashi whispers, “Yours, yours,”

Kei groans, pleased, the quiet submission making him feel light. Hearing it said isn’t necessary for him, in the same way it’s necessary for Tadashi, but it’s nice still. “Yeah, _my_ pretty slut, Tadashi,”

Tadashi has four fingers pistoning inside of him now. Greedily, Kei watches them press in and come out covered in lube, filthy in the soft, squelching sound of it. Perhaps he’s still stretched from last night — he’s so open despite having just woken up. He humps against the sheets, toes curling and thighs shaking.

“Please, please, Kei,” Tadashi whimpers, “It’s not — it’s, it’s not _enough_ ,”

“Use your words, Tadashi.”

“I want — more, more, I want more,“ He gasps and takes his fingers out. Kei hums in sympathy and reaches out to thumb at his empty hole. It’s the right thing to do, apparently, because Tadashi _keens_ , and tugs at his shoulders, pulling him closer. “I want your fingers, please, please,”

Although he knows, Kei still asks, “Why? _Your_ fingers aren’t good enough?”

“No, nuh, yours — so much better, I want them, so long — fill me up, please, Kei, Kei, _Kei_ ,”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Kei curses, and acquiesces. He pulls the bottle of lube from the side table again and slicks his fingers up, then presses his forefinger softly but insistently inside. He meets little resistance and the thoughts that come with this fact have him cursing under his breath. 

Tadashi is shameless like this, pink parted lips and cheeks scrunched up in desperation. 

His walls are soft and warm inside, and open up so generously for two fingers, then three — Kei hesitates before adding the last.

Sensing it, Tadashi begs: “ _More_ , please, please, come on, I can take it, Kei, come on,”

“Will you be good for me? If I give you my fingers, will you be good and open up for me?” 

Tadashi babbles, “Yes, yes, _yes_ ,” 

Kei adds the last finger. His fingers are longer and thicker, so even though Tadashi had just had four of his own inside, the stretch is still tight — taut. His legs tremble and falter. Leaning over him, Kei joins hands with the one of Tadashi’s that clutches at his knees and presses his leg back. The other presses inside of him, stroking at the velvet there. 

He knows his fingers are long and can reach where Tadashi’s own can’t — something so powerful about it; so special. He holds Tadashi’s pleasure in his hands and Tadashi trusts him with it. Nobody else can have this, just him, just Kei. 

Kei has wanted Tadashi since before he knew what it was like to want someone. It’s wonderful, now, to have him.

One hand grips at the sheets. Tadashi uses it as leverage to hump down on his fingers, and Kei begins to shove them in and out, searching for the spot he knows is there. Tadashi is honest, as always — Kei doesn’t think he could lie to him even if he tried — when he finds it, he muffles a scream into the mattress and clenches wildly around him. 

“ _Yes_ , oh my god, right there!”

“You’re going to cut my fingers off,” Kei tells him. The words overflow all at once, unfiltered. “It’s like you’re sucking me in, that’s how tight you are. I didn’t know _whores_ could be this tight, so maybe you aren’t one after all,”

“So good, Kei, p—lease,” Tadashi swallows convulsively, moaning for more. “I’m so close come on, please touch me, please, please…”

“Should I touch you?” Kei asks, “Do you think you’ve earned it? Have you been good?”

“Yes, yes, yes yes yes!”

“I haven’t even gotten my dick inside of you and you’re this close,” Kei huffs. The other hand that’s not finger-fucking his boyfriend reaches down to grope at his soft ass, to spread his cheeks open. 

Tadashi whines, high and desperate, and thumbs at his own chest. His hard nipples are visible through the thin fabric of his sleep shirt. A pity, and a waste; Kei thinks they should be visible and in his hands all the time. 

He fixes it then, tugging at the buttons of Tadashi’s shirt until it falls open and settles around him. Like this, Kei can see his freckled chest and the full-body blush that creeps there. He leans forward to trace his tongue down Tadashi’s favorite spots, basking in the wheezing moans that he lets out in return. His collarbone, his nipples, his belly — Kei presses kisses to them all. 

“Please, please, Kei, gonna — gonna come!”

“A little unfair, don’t you think, Tadashi.” Kei leers, “A little selfish. I’m hard too. You know you get so sensitive when you come, isn’t it mean, making me open you up and then not letting me fuck you. I don’t know if I should let you, if you’re going to be this way.”

“Let me — let me come, _please_ , I’ll suck you after, please please please,”

“You want to blow me?” Kei likes the idea, but pretends he doesn’t. He tsks and pulls out slightly, just enough to hook his fingers against his sensitive rim, making Tadashi tremble. “But I had my hopes up to fuck this, right here, and I _like_ it when your mouth is babbling…”

“Please, Kei?”

“Beg for it,” Kei says, “I know you can do better than that.”

“Please, Kei, please let me c — come, then let me blow you, I’ll — I’ll make it good, I promise, I promise, I’ll be good for you, just let me show you, please, please!”

Kei’s head drops forward and he groans into his chest, too aroused now to act aloof. In some gentle kindness he reaches for Tadashi’s weeping cock and gives it a few sharp, harsh strokes. 

“F — fine,” Kei swallows around the word, his inhale sharp, “Fine, yeah, you can come, come on, so beautiful—“

“ _Kiss me_ , please, please,” Tadashi requests, and how can he say no?

Kei leans forward and captures soft lips with his. It’s wet and messy and desperate, but Tadashi keens happily into it, smiling even as he rides Kei’s fingers within an inch of his life. 

Tadashi comes undone so prettily. With it, Kei feels a rush like the one he gets when he’s solved a particularly difficult puzzle, when he’s planned and executed a complex solution — satisfying, victorious, beautiful and glorious, all the ways that Tadashi shakes and quivers and clenches around his fingers. Kei strokes him through it, reaching forward to pet his hair. Tadashi nuzzles his forehead against it. 

“So pretty,” Kei murmurs.

“Oh my god. Oh my _god_ ,” Tadashi sighs into the pillow, tear tracks glittering in the corner of his eyes. Kei thumbs at them and comes away with moisture sinking into his skin.

He looks absolutely wrecked. Which is unfortunate, because Kei is still hard. Kei groans into his fist. He contemplates letting Tadashi sleep in and jerking himself off in the shower when his thoughts are interrupted by Tadashi pushing himself up and onto his palms. 

He looks dazed and still a little bit out of it, but determined too when he asks: “Can I please suck your dick, Kei, please?”

“Oh, fuck, okay,” Kei says, breathy, “Yeah, I promised, didn’t I,”

Willingly, Tadashi slides off of the covers onto the tatami mat of their shared bedroom. Kei swings his legs off of the bed and Tadashi settles easily between them, like he fits there. Just right.

Fingers push his knees apart and Kei bites back a moan when he feels them, feather-light, at the sensitive inner parts of his thighs. Tadashi presses his face forward and laves at his cock through his boxers; it twitches, half-hard. 

Kei pants, “Fuck, fuck, _Tadashi_ ,”

He helps tug his boxers down and sucks in a sharp breath when his erection is exposed to the open air. Tadashi hums, pleased, and presses tiny little licks to the tip. It’s good, so good, his hot mouth on Kei’s cock. His eyelashes are so long from up here, still tear-stained, demure. He looks delighted with the taste, happy and content like he could do this, stay on his knees for hours. Kei supposes he has, before. 

“Come on,” Kei says — whines, honestly — and reaches fingers down to tug at Tadashi’s long hair. Now that he’s securely employed and made himself indispensable at the company, propriety be damned, he’s going to grow it out, just like Kei likes. The soft straight strands fit so perfectly between his fingers. 

Tadashi moans, parting his lips further, and takes the head into his mouth. His lashes flutter when Kei tugs insistently at his scalp and pulls him down. 

“Open up,” Kei orders. One thumb hooks inside his wet sloppy mouth and pulls his lips apart and open. It’s cute, the way he’s drooling for it. “Let me fuck your mouth, if it’s all you’re good for.”

Though his lips are stretched too wide to form syllables, it doesn’t stop Tadashi from trying — he mumbles something, into the sensitive skin around his cockhead, and the vibrations send pleasant warmth up to his core. Kei groans into his fist. He releases his thumb and Tadashi pulls off, rambling again.

“You’re — you’re so big, Kei, I love it, I’m so lucky, _please_ , will you let me choke on it? Please, _please_ —” 

It’s disgusting how sweet he is, begging so filthily. 

In answer, he taps the side of Tadashi’s jaw, relishing the way it drops open. Kei feeds his cock to him centimeter by centimeter, enjoying the way Tadashi’s hot panting breaths feel against his shaft and how wet and warm his mouth is. The mouth that was just on him, kissing him, now sucks him down so eagerly. His lips tremble with something — eagerness or anticipation, maybe.

Kei feels his head press against the tightness of his throat only half-way in; Tadashi’s eyes widen at the familiar feeling — then narrow, determined like he’s staring down a referee’s whistle, working his jaw again until he takes Kei even deeper. 

His teeth, which he had so carefully tucked behind his lips, graze Kei’s sensitive shaft as he does so in the effort. It doesn’t hurt, not _really_ , but Kei hisses and tugs against his hair harshly, more grateful for the excuse to be rough than anything. 

Tadashi whines something then that sounds like _sorry_ , looking up at him with those watery eyes again. 

_Sorry, Tsukki_ , something sacrilegious in that phrase. Tadashi _has_ know to know what it does to him, the way it makes Kei throw his head back and clench his jaw, knees shaking too with the effort. _Sorry, Tsukki,_ the way he says it when he’s forgotten his jacket and Kei drapes his over both of their shoulders, the way he says it when he’s caught a cold and Kei stays home from work to care for him. Used now, here, while on his knees and with Kei’s cock splitting his jaw open. 

Kei groans, snapping his hips forward, and forcing the last few centimeters deep inside. Seated to the hilt, Tadashi moans so openly around it, deft tongue licking underneath the shaft so desperately, trapped in place with nowhere to go. His fingers lift off of Kei’s hips to play with his balls. His throat pulses, warm and tight. 

“Fff — _fuck_ ,” Kei bites out. “You’re good at this, yeah, so good, so wet for me, so desperate—“

Tadashi whines his assent, throat tightening. He mumbles something again, and the vibrations are so sweet, but all Kei can feel is annoyance then that he has something more to say. 

With a harsh tug of the hair at the base of his head, Kei yanks him harshly off of his cock and snaps, “What?”

Tadashi, on his knees. Tadashi, panting. “Fuck my throat, please, _please_ , Kei, I like it when you tug at my hair, it’s so _good_ , Kei, let me make you feel good, I want to be good, in my mouth, _I want it —_ “

Kei almost wants to laugh then — the way Tadashi begs so easily without even having to be asked. The fact that he thinks he still has to. How pointlessly he asks for something Kei was going to give him anyway. How desperate he is like this. 

Impatient, Tadashi nuzzles at his cock again. Kei takes the hint and holds himself between his fingers, then lets go, letting his cock slap against his round, pink cheeks, spreading come all over and into his skin. Some of it covers his freckles, adding just a little bit of opacity, and for some reason that does something to Kei deep inside his chest. 

“Beautiful,” he hears himself murmur.

Then he thrusts back into his throat. Kei means for it to be soft, lazy, befitting of their Saturday morning off, but something about Tadashi has always made Kei want to lose his control. Something about the way he throws himself into receives, into serving so earnestly like he impales himself on Kei’s cock. Bravery, Kei thinks, brave in the kind of way that encourages him to be brave, too.

“Play — play with your nipples,” Kei pants, “I know you’ll like it, you deserve it,” 

Tadashi acquiesces, moaning louder around him, freckled fingers running up his chest to twist his nipples in an imitation of what Kei had done to him earlier. 

He’s babbling, now, too, but it’s okay — Tadashi likes it, and that’s really all Kei needs to keep going, all he’s ever needed. 

“You’re such a slut — a good slut, just for me, all for me, so good, so _talented_ — your mouth was made for this, to suck me down and drink my come — taking me so well, _yeah_ — “

He close, so close — the way Tadashi tears up isn’t helping, running down his cheeks so freely, the way his nose is scrunched up and cheeks red with the effort of staying still. He’s drooling onto the tatami, arms shaking where he has them placed on Kei’s hips. Clutching at the sharp bones there. Kei knows there will be marks later but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Fuck, fuck, gonna come — gonna come, Tadashi,” Kei grits a warning through his teeth and tries to pull out. But Tadashi’s insistent hands on his hips, pressing down, pressing him into the mattress, force him to still. And _fuck_ if that isn’t hot too. 

Tadashi whines, demanding and impatient. This, then, is what brings Kei over the edge — the sweetness in the pebbled texture of his tongue and the honesty in the rumbled notes of his voice box. Kei pistons his hips again and with one last thrust, buries himself deep inside Tadashi’s throat, filling him to the brim.

Throat swallowing furiously around him, Tadashi can’t help but to choke on it. Kei groans at the sensation, sensitive now too. Some of his come spills out and runs down his lips, down his cheeks, staining Tadashi’s nice silk pajama shirt. 

He pulls out. Kei thumbs at the white come, cleaning it off of him before it dries tacky on his cheeks. Before he can wipe it away, Tadashi grabs his hand and brings the fingers to his mouth and suckles happily, entirely blissed out. Kei tucks himself back into his pants and makes a note to run the laundry later.

Feeling soft, Kei mumbles, “Love you, Tadashi.”

Tadashi smiles tiredly into his bared thigh, sickly sweet. 

Then he raises his arms insistently and wiggles his butt from his spot on the floor. Even though Kei’s tired, too, the sight makes him grin just a little, and he bends forward to lift him by the underarms and pull him back to bed again.

“I love you too, Kei,” Tadashi settles back into sheets and tugs the covers back over them from where they had been discarded before. “It’s my day off, so you’ll let me sleep in, right?”

Kei sighs and slumps onto his back, throwing one arm over his tired eyes. 

“Yeah,” he says, bumping lightly against Tadashi’s shoulder and wiggling until he scoots over. “Make room.” 

Tadashi does.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [twitter](https://twitter.com/halloaloe), but it's entirely sfw and i don't talk about horny stuff there. please feel free to follow and talk to me about tskym though! i cannot stop thinking about them it is a disease..
> 
> also as always, kudos and comments are very appreciated <3 thank you for reading!


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